


i'm falling, falling faster

by hanorganaas



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Episode Related, Episode: 2x06 Fractured House, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, TW: Blood, Tables turned, Tending to Wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:53:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanorganaas/pseuds/hanorganaas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil injures himself in a fit of rage at the news of Ward's escape. Melinda helps him by tending to his wounds and telling him it is not his fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm falling, falling faster

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write Phil's reaction if he found out about Ward's Escape. Hopefully you guys enjoy.

Phil’s hand was curled into a fist as he looked in the mirror. Knuckles cramped as they turned blinding white. His chest was burning on, on fire. There were many things that had made him angry in recent days. But this….he furrowed his brow. He barely recognized his reflection. He was tired with bags under his eyes. His face was twisted in rage.

This was the face of failure.

His one chance, to keep his team, and keep Skye safe, and he fucking blew it. And why he was angry….betrayed….hurt. He took a long swig of his beer in his hand. Staring long and staring hard. Silent as the bone. Until….

Phil let out a long enraged growl. His fist flew the air and smashed through the mirror, shattering his distorted reflection into tiny pieces. He hissed as tiny shards sliced his hand part of his arm, bringing him back to reality. The sight of crimson red drenching his hand causing it to fall to the floor. 

“Phil!” He heard a voice yell. 

His eyes raised in heavy hooded lids as he looked at Melinda. She took his bloody hand, some blood smearing her own skin and looked at the damage. His hand so bloodied, it was hard to tell where the wound began and how many they were.

“Let me get you to Simmons,” She said. 

“No,” He said. Whether it be the carvings or anything else. When he lost sense like this, he needed her. She helped him get him through the pain. He trusted her. He closed his eyes and bit his lip trying to regulate his breathing through the sting. “I want…..I want you...only you.” 

Melinda only helped him to his feet and pulled him away from the mess.

* * *

They sat on a empty desk in his office. Phil was in a crosslegged position. Melinda sat on her knees. Causual. Almost like it was like it was in the academy. Days that were carefree and fun. 

Before everything went to hell. 

“It’s funny,” Melinda said as she dipped the wet towel onto his hand, and the part of the injured skin of his arm exposed by his rolled up sleeve. White, and tainted with blood. “You are usually the one is patching me up….funny how the tables turn.” There was less blood than there was before. Instead there was lines of various sizes. Some leaked crimson others had begun to dry up. “And you are usually not this quiet.”

“I don’t want to talk Melinda.” He said quietly staring blankly ahead of him.

She nodded her head and rested his hand on her lap. There was one deep wound angry and red at the center of his palm. She pulled out the alcohol solution and poured it into a bowl next to the discarded bloodstained towel. Diluting a cotton ball, she gently ran her hand up his arm.

“It’s going to sting a little,” She whispered. 

She was right. The moment the alcohol touched the broken skin Phil let out a small wince. His free hand, almost like a reflex, touched her face. Her skin felt soft, almost like silk. His finger brushed over her cheek a few times. His breathing hitched, as the solution touched a few more wounds. His eyes kept focus on hers.

“I know you said you didn’t want to talk,” Melinda said picking up a roll of gauze and wrapping it gingerly around his wounded hand. He closed his eyes and turned his head away, but his hand remained. Touching her, became a coping mechanism for him. It stopped the carvings, the urges. It was almost as if he was a condemned man with a noose around his neck, and Melinda was the stool beneath his feet, keeping him from being suspended in the air with the life being choked out of him. She was the one thing keeping him keeping him alive a little while longer, “I think we need to. Your rage could have been caused by the drug….it’s one thing to cause symbols but to punch through-”

“It wasn’t the drug Melinda,” Phil responded,”it was me.”

“It was about Ward wasn’t it?” Melinda said.

Phil opened his eyes as Melinda finished tying off the bandage. His head turned back to hers slowly. Two pools of blue bared all. Disappointment, fear and above all….rage. Whether it was toward Grant Ward or towards himself he wasn’t sure. But it was there and it frightened him.

“Phil,” Melinda said. She took her face in his hands, “it’s NOT your fault.”

“Is it Melinda?” Phil said. He could now feel tears glistening at the corner of his eyes, “Fury left me in charge of SHIELD. To rebuild to keep my people safe. And in a fit of rage I decided to hand Ward over to his brother….and look what happened. He escaped. I feel so god damn stupid for letting my rage get the better of me. What if he comes after me, after you….after Skye.” The dam broke and tears began to spill from his eyes. Melinda’s thumbs brushed the tears away from his face, “I failed her….I failed SHIELD.”

Melinda’s hand moved. This time it gently gripped his bandaged hand. Her hand was much smaller than his but it fit perfectly.

“You are not perfect Phil Coulson,” Melinda said gently. Her other hand began to trail down from his jaw down the side of his neck. His breath hitched as his eyes fluttered blinking back tears. “Neither was Fury. You have room to make mistakes. You are human. But Phil you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. You had no idea Ward was going to escape.” 

She brought her face closer to his, feeling her warm breath against his face. His uninjured hand moved, settling on her waist on her waist. Keeping her secure, near him, letting her hold him together. She squeezed his shoulder.

“But I was angry,” He responded. “I could have-”

Melinda cut off his words when her lips gently touched his. It was a quick, almost like a flutter of light that was gone in a flash. Her hand moved up his neck and against his cheek as she settled her forehead against his.

“Don’t think about the what ifs Phil,” She said as she placed small kisses down his jawline and neck, “think about how we could find him….we’ll find him.” She whispered against his skin. “We always do.”

“Yes we always do,” Phil whispered closing his eyes. He still had his doubts. He had his fears of Ward’s retribution. But for now he reveled of the way she felt against him. The way her lips touched his skin.

Even in a long series of mistakes, there was one thing that he didn’t screw up, his light in the darkness….

It was Melinda.

And for the moment the one thing that kept him alive made him forget the dangers that loomed beyond the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D

**Author's Note:**

> FEEL FREE TO LEAVE PROMPTS IN MY INBOX:
> 
> bowtyesarecool.tumblr.com/ask


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